


Which Will (From The Stars Above)

by softschatz (obi1sexybi)



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neil Perry Is Feeling a Lot of Things, Not Actually Unrequited Love, So Is Todd Anderson To Be Honest, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-01-29 16:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21412846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obi1sexybi/pseuds/softschatz
Summary: “Stop looking at me like that.” Todd says, and Neil has never seen him so angry before. “What?”“Stop looking at me like I’m special.” He insists, clearly fuming, and, for once in his life, Neil is at loss for words.Finally, “I’m not looking at you like you’re special.”, he says, and Todd looks at him like he’s daft.
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 12
Kudos: 154





	Which Will (From The Stars Above)

“Stop looking at me like that.” Todd says, and Neil has never seen him so angry before. 

“What?” “Stop looking at me like I’m special.” He insists, clearly fuming, and for once in his life, Neil is at loss for words.  


Finally, “I’m not looking at you like you’re special.”, he says, and Todd looks at _him_ like he’s daft.  
“Of course you are.”  
“No, I’m looking at you _because_ you’re special.”  
A tense silence, then: “Neil,” Todd whines, and he sounds so embarrassed the other boy imagines he can feel the heat from his reddened cheeks sip under his own skin, “you can’t say stuffs like that. It’s not fair.” He plops down on his bed, and Neil does the same. After a beat, he clears his throat and think, why not?

“I just think you’re amazing, that’s all. And I think you ought to believe more in yourself, too. What Keating said yesterday, what was it? ‘_You’ve got something inside of you which is worth a great deal_’? Well I think it’s true. You’re so much more than you know. Your poem was brilliant, all the guys loved it. I loved it. And I’m glad you dared to share a poem tonight. Especially your own work.” He’s out of breath, but he has managed to say what he wanted to say. He still has more in his heart to carry, but he does not want to make Todd run. So he shuts up and listens.

Todd whines again, this time a little louder, and Neil gets up on his elbows, looking over at the bed mirroring his own. The room is neat, for once, and with the moonlight he has a clear view of Todd’s side of it; the desk, filled with half-drank coffee mugs and piles upon piles of books and papers. And Todd, laying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling although his eyes are closed, scrunched up as if he is in pain. He might as well be, Neil knows he cannot take a compliment. It is as if it physically harms him. But Neil pushes still, because Todd needs to understand. Todd needs to see.  
After a few moments, he lies back down, letting out a huff of breath. He’s tired, and they should be asleep, but they’ve just gone back from the Cave and the excitement running through his veins must go into something. 

“Did I tell you about what happened at the rehearsal today?” He asks, even though he knows he didn’t. It is daring, provocative, even for him, even for careless Neil, but it is almost as if he can taste the electricity between where he ends and where Todd starts, and he can’t take this anymore.  
“No,” Todd confirms, “you didn’t.”

“Well Ginny came up to me after we were done.” He starts, and suddenly feels wary. Should he be telling Todd this? Isn’t it a little mean? Given the soft intake of breath that he hears from the bed over, Todd is strengthening himself for what he is about to throw his way. Neil feels guilty, and stupid.  
“She said,” he has to clear his throat, “she said she wanted to talk to me, somewhere private. So I followed her to the girls’ changing room and, well.” He stops himself, closes his eyes. Opens them again. Todd is silent, but his whole being is tense, as if preparing for a blow. 

“She kissed me.” He admits in a rush, and he doesn’t feel any better for it. It is painful, for the both of them, and sometimes Neil wishes things were easier. He can hear Todd shuffling about, and when he looks at him again, his back is turned. Neil doesn’t want to push, but he has to. He cannot ignore this, whatever it is. “Are you not going to say anything, then?”  


“What do you want me to say?” Todd breathes, and his words are clear and sharp like they never were before. For some reason, it makes Neil feel as if something’s gone. “Congratulations, I suppose.”  
After a pause, he adds in his soft voice of his “Goodnight, Neil.”, and the room is silent once more, besides their breath mingling about somewhere in the middle of it, the common ground they can never seem to reach, the no-man’s land of Neil’s wildest fantasies. 

His head is full of Todd; Todd’s lips stretched out in a small, secretive smile, Todd’s hands taking notes or doodling in mathematics or writing in the private notebook he hides away from Neil in his bedside drawer, Todd’s hair falling into his eyes and the sheer need Neil feels pooling in his belly, wishing to stretch his hand out into Todd’s hair and ruffle and pull and caress. But this is dangerous, dangerous thinking and dangerous thoughts, a dangerous path, and Neil wishes he wasn’t like this but he is, and he wants. He needs Todd to see.

“I didn’t like it.” He admits and it is so loud he fears the whole school heard him, but deep down he knows it is irrational thinking, again, and he didn’t even speak that loud anyway. Maybe he just said it in his head. He doesn’t know anymore.  
There is a small, almost imperceptible sound coming from Todd’s side of the room, and then he hears a soft murmur of “_Why not?_”, and Neil knows he is gone. He has fallen and will not be able to stride back up. “I kept imagining it was you.” He admits and in the dark room and the pale moonlight, it feels less tangible and more like a dream. None of this is real. All of this is in his head.  


“I kept imagining it was you and it was too painful. So I told her off and she cried and I watched her cry and I felt bad, but I couldn’t fake it anymore.” 

The bed cracks, then the floorboard, and then finally, finally after so long a wait he has an armful of Todd Anderson. Todd is half lying on top of him, his head snuggled between Neil’s jaw and his neck. He breathes a nose full of Todd and his scent is so good he might cry. He tentatively outstretches a hand, as if approaching a fawn, and brushes Todd’s fringe away from his eyes. His hair is so soft, and the locks of blond hair fall back in place as soon as he moves his hand further up, and the angle is awkward and he knows he will have a hell of an ache in his upper arm tomorrow, but he doesn’t dare to move. This is perfect.

And then, he feels Todd’s lips slide over the tender skin of his neck when he murmurs, slowly, softly, finally: “I love you”.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go again. My first work regarding Dead Poets Society, and the only one I count myself confident about regarding the language/grammar. I’m not a native English speaker, so do forgive me for any possible mistakes. I tried my best! Also I probably went a little overboard with the italics, I just figured out how to make it work (I’m absolutely useless when it comes to technology tbh) so yeah. Had some fun with it!  
This could potentially be canon compliant, as you can imagine it happened during the school year at Welton. I hope I’ll write more about these boys, as I have already another thing in my drafts. With some of the gang (Nuwanda!), but it might be angstier. Or not, I can’t decide yet.  
Thank you for reading, do not hesitate to leave a comment if you liked it! ;)  



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